


Winter Heat

by xiuchenlay



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Porn with Feelings, Smut, i have too many feelings, is this a pwp??, it has some plot, lots of fluff, lots of smut, this is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiuchenlay/pseuds/xiuchenlay
Summary: Work has been consuming Minseok's life, leaving him exhausted with no time for his mate, but a weekend away at a cabin with his love is just what the two of them need to reconnect.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101
Collections: SnowSpark Fest Round One





	Winter Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This is a self prompt!  
> I don't have much to say besides an outstanding thank you to the mods for organizing such a wonderful fest. Truly, I could not have written this without the countless extensions and all your plentiful support. I'm so, so grateful for everything you've done for me.  
> To all other participants, you've all done such amazing jobs writing great fics!!
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys :) <3

The house is silent when Minseok walks in on a Thursday night. He toes off his shoes and sets them carefully by the door. The warm air stings his cold cheeks as he removes his deep maroon scarf and winter coat, hanging them on their respective hangers near the entrance. He rolls his shoulders to try and stretch them free of the stiffness that sits deep within the fibres of his muscles. 

It’s late. Much later than when he usually gets in from work. But it’s to be expected now that he’s doing twice the work since their other manager got laid off and he needs to pick up the slack. Frankly, he feels like he’s being wrung dry but the fact that this is (hopefully) temporary keeps him going. 

“Dae?” he calls out as he makes his way to his bedroom to grab some clothes to change into after he showers. “I’m home.”

Further silence greets him. He assumes that sleep is the reason his boyfriend doesn’t respond. While Jongdae does tend to stay up later than this, it wouldn’t be unusual if he decided to turn in for the night. But when he steps past the threshold of his bedroom, a four-legged friend greets him instead of his two-legged boyfriend. 

“Tannie, I missed you,” Minseok says softly, approaching his cat and running his fingers through her soft fur. She lets out an appreciative sound, greeting him with a slow blink. “Where’s our Dae?”

He’s offered no answer besides deep, pleased purrs and he scratches beneath her chin the way she loves just to hear them grow louder. He spoils her a little more and leaves her with a kiss on her forehead, leaving the room in search of his boyfriend. 

He doesn’t need to look far as his attention is caught by light leaking beneath the door to Jongdae’s study. The door creaks lightly as it's opened and the sight makes his heart clench in fondness. Jongdae is sleeping soundly, hunched over his desk in front of his laptop, cheek resting on his outstretched arm. Minseok feels so full of love seeing his mate after a long day, so full he thinks he could choke. He quietly makes his way towards him and leans over to place a kiss on the skin of the shoulder bared by the neck of a too-large t-shirt—right over where his teeth had dug a mating mark years ago.

The mark has long since scarred over, lighter than Jongdae’s natural skin tone. A matching one adorns Minseok’s own shoulder, courtesy of Jongdae’s own sharpened incisors. 

“Hey, love,” Minseok whispers softly to his mate. The glow of the small desk lamp washes over Jongdae’s features and Minseok watches him grumble, scrunching his nose before finally opening his eyes with the delicate flutter of long, curled lashes. 

“Hyung?” Jongdae croaks out in confusion, sleep still stubbornly clinging to him.

“Yes, it’s me,” Minseok makes a sound in confirmation. He gently pulls Jongdae up and off his desk chair. “Come on, love, let’s go to bed.”

Jongdae allows himself to be herded to their bedroom, latching onto Minseok like an overgrown koala and burying his nose in his neck. Alpha spice immediately washes over him and it makes him sag into his mate’s arms.

“Missed you,” he mumbles into soft skin as he’s half carried to bed. Minseok tightens the arm around his waist in sync with the painful squeeze of his heart. Guilt festers in his gut. 

“I missed you, too.” he kisses Jongdae's temple with reverence.

When they get to the bed, Jongdae all but collapses onto it, immediately burying his face in a pillow and falling back asleep with a pleased sound. The guilt grows further when Minseok realizes the pillow is his own. With a sigh, he properly tucks Jongdae in and finally heads to shower.

Amidst the steam and the familiar smell of his body wash, Minseok clears his head. 

With the long hours he's pulling, he hasn't been around much at all, only seeing Jongdae for a few moments in the morning and a few in the evening. He misses him so much and he isn't the only one busy; Jongdae's writing his new book and finding him asleep in front of his laptop isn't a rare sight.

They need a break, time away from the bustle and stress of their lives.

He thinks he knows just the thing.

♡

“Hyung, I still can’t believe you booked us a cabin!” Jongdae wiggles happily in the passenger seat, looking at Minseok as he drives with unconcealed excitement. 

“You deserve it,” Minseok says with a small smile, taking Jongdae’s small hand—partly covered by the too-long sleeve of his sweater—and gives it a squeeze.

“So do you,” Jongdae responds after a pause, raising their joined hands to press a soft kiss to the back of Minseok’s. “We’re going to have the best time, hyung. No work, no people—just you, me and an entire cabin to ourselves... Whatever will we do to pass the time?”

Minseok doesn’t need to be looking at Jongdae to know that he’s waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“I’m sure we can find some hiking trails,” he teases. “I heard the scenery is really pretty around here.”

Jongdae playfully nips Minseok’s hand. “The only scenery I need is you above me, either riding me or knotting me, I’m not picky. You’re gorgeous either way.”

He isn’t lying or exaggerating in any way. His mate is absolutely gorgeous, he thinks for the millionth time as he takes in his profile, his soft black hair and feline eyes. He’s just in awe that this is the person he gets to call his own. 

Minseok glances over at Jongdae, the corner of his lips quirked. He takes back his hand and returns it to the steering wheel, pretending that Jongdae’s words aren’t affecting him as much as they are. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Pity,” Jongdae juts out his bottom lip in a way that always makes Minseok tempted to bite it. “I was really hoping it would get me into those pants.”

He places his hand on the pants in question, rubbing his thigh and inching dangerously upwards. Minseok is quick to stop him in his tracks, grabbing his thin wrist with a grip Jongdae knows, from experience, he can’t break. 

“Jongdae, enough. I’m driving,” he all but growls in a way that never fails to send a thrill down Jongdae’s spine. “Behave and maybe I’ll let you take them off of me when we get there.”

“Oh.” 

Jongdae’s voice is breathy, sweet omegan arousal tingeing the air, making Minseok’s head spin. He squeezes the thick thigh beneath his hand, which is the only movement he’s really able to make. 

“You promise?”

“I _promise.”_

Behaving means Jongdae keeping his hands (and feet) to himself the rest of the ride there. It also means helping Minseok hang all of their clothes and organizing their food in the kitchen cupboards and fridge when they arrive.

Only once all is organized to Minseok’s liking does he give in to the pouting and puppy eyes. He winds an arm around Jongdae’s tiny waist and presses him up against the kitchen counter. He kisses the pout off his lips, feeling it turn into a smug grin—a cat who finally got the cream. Jongdae scrapes his teeth along Minseok’s bottom lip just to feel him shudder. 

“Need you,” Jongdae says, pressing his lips to Minseok’s jaw. He mouths along the sharpness of it. He punctuates the heady statement with a roll of his hips. There’s no mistaking the fact that Jongdae’s already half hard, the evidence pressing against Minseok’s leg through their pants. 

With his heat approaching in the coming week, Jongdae’s so easy to rile up, riding on a surge of hormones typical of an omega’s preheat state. He’s much more sensitive too, more receptive to Minseok’s alpha pheromones—to his _mate’s_ pheromones. Minseok nearly goes dizzy with want. 

It’s a two-way street, Minseok reacting to the sweet, sweet pheromones that are filling the air. They have him cupping Jongdae’s ass and offering him his thigh to rut up against. Jongdae takes the offering without shame, tangling his fingers in Minseok’s hair and chasing the tantalizing friction with frantic hips. He takes some more, licking into Minseok’s pretty mouth and swallowing his gasp. He’s always so greedy, always so desperate for his hyung. 

And who is Minseok to deny him? He doubts he could, even if he wanted to. 

Minseok snakes his hand from where it’s cupping Jongdae’s ass to beneath the large cream sweater that swallows the omega’s lithe frame. He dances his fingers along the dark trail of hair on Jongdae’s stomach, mouth quirking into a smile as Jongdae shivers in response. He doesn’t linger long, caressing smooth skin and firm muscles until he finally thumbs over a nipple. 

Jongdae’s resulting groan is delicious, as is the way he hardens further in his pants at the teasing touch. He’s always been sensitive there and Minseok never fails to take advantage. Jongdae’s skin feels overheated, the sweater too thick. Sweat makes it stick to his back. He goes to remove it but Minseok is already there, tugging it the rest of the way off and leaving Jongdae’s hair in disarray. 

Immediately, Minseok’s lips attach themselves to the newly bared shoulder, pressing worshipful kisses along the slope. Jongdae bares his neck with a sigh, threading his fingers through soft hair. A jolt of emotion runs through him when Minseok lingers on his mating mark. He feels him kiss the scar with reverence, once, twice, three times before his tongue joins in, licking over the sensitive skin. Jongdae arches into Minseok with a gasp, his arousal heating to a simmer.

“Please.” His eyes flutter shut as his hips continue their desperate ruts on Minseok’s thigh. He’s reminded of the day they claimed each other, the day Minseok had finally bitten into his shoulder after making love to him for hours until he trembled and gasped and pleaded. “Please hyung.”

With a farewell kiss to the mark, Minseok raises his head. His words are whispered into Jongdae’s skin.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Jongdae doesn’t need to be told twice, grabbing Minseok by the hand and pulling him in the direction of the master bedroom. Despite his initial haste, he can’t help but stop every few feet to put his mouth back on Minseok. He kisses Minseok against the wall, tugging off Minseok’s sweater and then biting at his collarbones, his pretty neck. Against the doorway is where they both lose their pants between frantic touches and breathy moans.

By the time they finally reach their bedroom, Jongdae is letting go of Minseok in order to slide his underwear down his legs. He toes them somewhere off to the side, flopping onto the bed. Minseok stares at the long lines of his mate’s back, following them until the generous curve of his ass before Jongdae is turning onto his back.

“You can’t touch me from all the way over there,” Jongdae states with a lecherous edge to his smirk when he sees Minseok still standing at the edge of the very comfortable bed. “Come here.”

Jongdae makes grabby hands at him. With a theatrical eye roll and a sarcastic _yes, master,_ Minseok is quick to shed his own underwear and join Jongdae on the bed. The next second, Jongdae is on him, tilting them over to straddle Minseok’s hips and suck a mark right beside his Adam's apple as it trembles through a swallow. Jongdae’s hands seem to be trying to touch all of Minseok at once, curling around a bicep, sliding down his chest, scratching at his abs. All but his cock which is rapidly hardening from his mate’s teasing ministrations. The teasing, fleeting touches are more than a little maddening.

Jongdae’s own cock stands just as proud, pressing into Minseok’s hip as he licks his way back into his mouth. Need simmers in his veins, his blood, his heart, his core all singing a litany of _Minseok, Minseok, Minseok_. He can feel wetness begin to leak down his inner thighs. 

The way Minseok suddenly pauses, mouth dropping open with a silent groan, means that he can _scent_ it. God, what a mouthwatering scent it is. Jongdae’s so turned on, he’s _leaking_ , all from some heavy petting and the press of their naked bodies together. 

The rush of power it gives Minseok is heady but more than anything, he wants a taste. He skims his fingers down Jongdae’s sides, delighting in the tiny shivers it draws from his mate, until he’s pressing his fingertips into the supple flesh of Jongdae’s ass. Jongdae arches back into his hand, spine curving like a cat’s and smirking into Minseok’s neck. 

“Mmm, you can smell that, hyung, can’t you?” His voice vibrates down into Minseok’s very bones, the satisfaction curling around the gravelly edges clear as day. “You can smell just how wet you make me—just how much I want you, your cock, your fingers…” he punctuates his list with nipping kisses along Minseok’s jaw, relishing the way the grip on his ass seems to tighten with every one. He pauses finally, taking Minseok’s earlobe between his teeth and scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin. “...your _tongue_.”

The statement is filthy, as is the following lick along the shell of Minseok’s ear. Minseok feels suckerpunched by the sudden image Jongdae’s sinful words bring forth. He digs bruises into Jongdae’s skin, drawing a hiss. 

“You want my mouth, love?” Minseok hardly recognizes his own voice as it escapes in a breathy rasp. “My tongue? Want me to lick you open and taste you?” 

“You—” Jongdae’s breath hitches as fingers dip lower to trace between his cheeks, inching dangerously close to his hole. He clenches around nothing, feeling more of his slick drip down. He shudders through a breath. “Fuck, Min, you know I do.”

Minseok leans up to capture Jongdae’s lips in a deep kiss. He pulls away before Jongdae can deepen it any further then pats his ass, beckoning. 

“Come on, then.”

Minseok doesn’t move. Jongdae looks at him for a moment in confusion, breathless. Minseok simply raises a bold brow and repeats the action, silently urging Jongdae to move forward. 

Oh. He wants him to— _oh_.

Jongdae’s throat goes dry. Being together for so long, they've experimented quite a bit. They have managed to learn what it took to drive the other to the brink of insanity time and time again. So, it's fair to say that hardly anything Minseok can ask of Jongdae would truly shock him but… it does take him a moment before complying with Minseok's tacit demand. 

It's not even the first time he's been in this position either, far from it actually. Still, there's always something so heady, so intoxicating, about having his thighs by Minseok's head, poised to lower himself onto his mouth. 

And what a pretty mouth it is, swollen and red from kissing, Minseok running his tongue along his bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes are intense as they meet Jongdae's, desire pooling in them as a core-deep hunger strikes through him. He's absolutely drowning in Jongdae's scent, taking in the gorgeous sight of his mate above him, Jongdae's chest heaving and flushed pink, his cock hard and curved. 

"Come on," Minseok repeats, urges. He turns his head ever so slightly to kiss Jongdae's inner thigh. He licks up the slickness that has slid down the smooth skin, sighing at the sweet taste. He thinks he can get addicted to it if he really lets himself, the pure unadulterated taste of his mate, of his omega. Maybe he already is. He feels his cock _throb_. "Let me taste you."

With small hands softly coaxing Jongdae's hips into a downward tilt, Jongdae lowers himself onto Minseok's awaiting mouth with trembling thighs and an equally trembling breath. 

" _Minseok_ ," Jongdae gasps out as he feels a tongue come out to lick tentatively at his rim. The next lick is more bold, Minseok gathering up slick and groaning in appreciation. 

“H-hyung,” Jongdae whimpers above him. He shudders at the vibrations, at the way Minseok only grows more eager, spreading Jongdae’s cheeks so he can push his tongue into him. All Jongdae can do is thread his fingers through Minseok’s hair and try not to drown in the pleasure roaring in his veins.

Minseok is quite sure that there is nothing more sinful than a Jongdae who has been stripped of all his inhibitions. He knows Jongdae, knows his mate, knows how he’s always so giving to others that he himself is simply an afterthought. And frankly, he would give Jongdae the world if he so much as asked but he also enjoys breaking Jongdae down, with his cock, with his mouth, with his tongue. He enjoys breaking him down until Jongdae has no choice but to _take_ the pleasure that is being offered to him on a silver platter.

And so, without any further preamble, he slips two fingers into Jongdae. The slide is seamless, Jongdae so wet slick trickles down his hand, all the way down to his wrist. Jongdae keens and clenches around the fingers as Minseok slowly fucks them into him and _ah, there it is_ ; Jongdae subconsciously rocks back onto Minseok’s fingers and tongue with shaking thighs. He chases the sensation, tightening his grip on Minseok’s hair with a groan so deep Minseok can feel it travel through his frame, and Minseok gives, gives, _always_ gives it to him.

He gives until Jongdae is rendered speechless, making tiny, needy sounds, head thrown back and mouth rounded into an ‘o’ of pleasure.

“Touch yourself.” 

Minseok breaks off to order Jongdae, voice all alpha grit and steel. Jongdae scrambles to listen, not because Minseok’s an alpha, but because he’s _his_ alpha, his mate, his hyung. He finds his voice when he wraps his hand around his cock, aching and flushed from neglect and arousal. 

“Your mouth—it feels so good, _fuck_ ,” Jongdae moans brokenly, desperately. Minseok presses bruises into his flesh in the shape of fingers and hums in response, licking deeper, faster, filthier. 

Jongdae’s body arches into the maddening sensation, arches into his own touch, hand squeezing around the head of his cock and spreading precum down his shaft. He jerks himself off, slow and teasing, in contrast to the way Minseok fingers and eats him out with precision, rubbing over his prostate and sucking at his rim.

The scent of his own arousal, so sweet and cloying, fills nearly every corner of the room, yet Minseok’s is impossible to miss. The spice of alpha, of _mate_ , sticks to the back of his throat every time he sucks in a breath. His head spins under the weight of it. He steadies himself on the headboard, nails digging into the wood because everything is _too much_ : his own hand around his cock, Minseok spreading him open with a hand digging into the soft flesh of his ass, the sweet, sweet press of fingers into his prostate, the filthy wetness of spit and slick and a hot mouth. 

His orgasm sneaks up on him, hitting like a punch in the gut and stealing the breath from his lungs. His body goes taut as pleasure rushes through his veins and he spills into his fist. 

Minseok works him through it, not letting up even though his jaw and his wrist aches. Jongdae tastes like heaven on his tongue, like sin too. Minseok laps up his gushing slick with a desperation so potent he could feel it in his bones. He allows himself to relax only when Jongdae shudders through his last aftershock and flops to the side, utterly boneless. He turns to face Jongdae, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Jongdae simply looks back at him beneath fluttering eyelids, a dazed, fucked out expression on his face. 

Then he grins, a lazy grin that crinkles his eyes and god, Minseok feels like he's been suckerpunched because he's never loved someone so fucking much, never thought loving someone so much was even possible. Yet, when he cups Jongdae's face and tilts him into a kiss, it tastes like debauchery, like Jongdae's slick which has covered his mouth down to his chin, but also like security, like love, like _forever._

"Mmm, I think we should take care of you now Hyung," Jongdae hums against his lips and smiles when Minseok's cock presses against his hip, aching hard from seeing Jongdae in the throes of pleasure. And all Minseok can do is surrender to the tongue that licks his jaw clean, licks down his sternum, traces wetness on his quivering abs, heading lower and lower…

♡

When Jongdae wakes, it’s to sunlight streaming through a small crack in the curtains and stuffy warmth. He blinks blearily in the face of the sunlight. He shifts under the covers, making to stand, but the sudden tightening of an arm around his waist stops him. Minseok’s breath is warm against the back of his neck and Jongdae wriggles in his grip to face him.

In the morning rays, he can’t help but admire Minseok’s sleeping face. He looks so serene, so beautiful, lips slightly swollen from Jongdae’s own doing. He brings up a hand to lightly trace them, resulting in an adorable nose scrunch before Minseok’s expression smooths out once more. Jongdae feels a stupidly fond grin break out on his face.

He can’t remember the last time he had the luxury of waking up before Minseok, his mate always up and ready at the crack of dawn to leave for work. Jongdae works from home and he never knew how lonely it could be until Minseok’s work responsibilities had him working impossibly long hours. Some days the only interactions between the two of them were a kiss goodbye and a kiss goodnight when Minseok got home before promptly passing out. Never mind when was the last time they had _sex_.

He shivers, a small zing of arousal suffusing through him as last night fills his mind. He can still feel the ghost of Minseok’s mouth between his legs. Fuck, he hadn’t came that hard in a long time. A sigh of satisfaction escapes him and he snuggles further into Minseok’s side. He noses at his neck, inhaling deeply to take in his spicy (with a hint of sugar), safe scent.

“Are you sniffing me?” comes Minseok’s voice, raspy from sleep, his throat vibrating beneath Jongdae’s nose.

“No.” Jongdae smiles against the column of Minseok’s throat, tinging his voice with playfulness. An arm tightens further around his waist and suddenly he’s rolled onto his back. Minseok kisses him, or rather, kisses more teeth than lips as Jongdae grins even larger. Still, he’s breathless as Minseok presses his lips from the corner of his mouth all the way to the sharpness of his jaw.

“Mmm, I think you were,” Minseok says into soft skin. He’s a solid, warm weight above Jongdae, shoulders and biceps rippling with the effort to hold himself up. 

Jongdae runs a hand up the back of Minseok’s neck into his dark hair. He tugs him upwards, their lips meeting once again. This time it’s slow, soft, the moving of lips and a barely there brush of tongues. When Minseok pulls away, his heart is definitely beating faster than it was before. Jongdae’s looking up at him beneath long, dark lashes. His expression is uncharacteristically shy.

“I love the way our scents go together,” he tells Minseok as if he’s sharing a deep dark secret—a whisper, as if speaking even one decibel louder would shatter the playful atmosphere. 

But it isn’t a secret and all it does is make Minseok want to love the man beneath him even more. Surely, he's already reached his loving-Jongdae quota—hell he’s certain he reached it within the first _week_ of dating—but no force in the universe is going to stop him from trying to surpass it. 

He and Jongdae just work. They’ve always just _worked._ Nothing in Minseok’s life has ever been as seamless, as worth it, as Jongdae has. But while he’s certain their relationship is as strong as it’s always been, he knows that Jongdae (even though he won’t admit it) isn’t quite as happy as he claims to be. 

“I’m sorry,” Minseok replies, the corners of his mouth downturned in guilt. Jongdae’s eyebrows tilt in confusion but a thumb lightly placed over his lips keeps him from interrupting. “I should be home more often. I haven’t been around enough and I’m sorry.”

He’s been spending too much time away from home. He’s not exactly sure when they stopped smelling like each other but, now that they do once again, he’s aware of how unbalanced he felt in comparison. He had been so stuck in his own head and occupied by his job that he hadn’t even noticed.

Clearly, Jongdae had noticed. It makes him feel like an utter asshole. 

Jongdae pushes away his hand so he can speak. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” a teasing smirk, “Besides, now that your nagging ass isn’t around, I can write in peace.”

By now, Minseok is attuned to all of Jongdae’s quirks and habits, so he catches the attempt at deflection immediately.

“It’s not okay. You’re unhappy.” he traces his thumb over Jongdae’s prominent cheekbone, his eyes flitting over Jongdae’s face. He wonders when the circles under his eyes got so dark. “You’re allowed to be unhappy. I just wish you would _tell_ me.”

“What would it change?” Jongdae rolls his eyes. “You _still_ won’t be home and I’m _still_ going to be lonely. You have obligations to your job. I’m not going to shrivel up and die like a neglected houseplant.”

“I have obligations to _you_ , to my mate,” Minseok says, tone stern. 

That makes Jongdae roll his eyes even harder, pushing Minseok off of him. Minseok lets him. Jongdae sits up and turns his back to him, poised to stand up and leave but he hesitates. 

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Love.”

Minseok’s nickname for him slides down his spine like warm honey. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Jongdae.” Minseok tentatively caresses Jongdae’s bare skin, fingertips running over the ball of his shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

Jongdae was never really mad to begin with, not at Minseok anyways, but hearing him acknowledge it makes him deflate. Minseok seems to take this as permission to wrap his arms around him and pull him against his broad chest. Jongdae sighs, melting into his warmth. Soft lips press into his skin, peppering light kisses up his neck, down the slope of his shoulder. They stop at his mating mark, growing more reverent. 

He missed this, missed the ease with which they fit together. 

They say a mated pair is only as strong as the way their scents couple and linger. While Jongdae isn’t sure he truly believes that, he can’t deny that their scents compliment each other like no other. His own is sweet, like brown sugar and comfort, while Minseok’s is akin to cinnamon and spice.

When he found himself slowly smelling more like himself and less like the two of them, he couldn’t deny the nagging insecurity he felt. He’s only human and while he was able to push them away for the most part, that didn’t stop them from recurring. 

“It’s okay,” he says with a tone of finality because _it is_. He never blamed Minseok. He turns his head to nose at Minseok’s cheek, angling for a kiss.

Minseok meets him halfway, groaning at the fingers that slide in his hair and tug ever so slightly. The kiss quickly turns filthy, fueled by desperation, regret and a tinge of guilt. He can taste it in Jongdae’s pleased sighs and tiny moans, taste how gone he is for this man. He’d tear the world apart with his bare hands if he so much as asked.

But Jongdae doesn’t ask that. Instead he pulls back, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, and says: 

“I want you, please.”

 _You have me, you already have me,_ Minseok screams in his mind but he knows that isn’t what Jongdae meant. “How do you want me?”

Jongdae licks his lips in contemplation. 

Minseok ends up in the center of the bed, three of Jongdae’s fingers fucking him with a wet filthy sound and lube leaking onto the bed. When they spread inside him, Minseok can feel goosebumps break out over his skin as he gasps. He digs his heels into the mattress so he can rock back onto them. Soon, they’re replaced by Jongdae’s cock, both of them too frantic to put this off any longer.

Jongdae slides in with a groan, Minseok so tight and hot around him, he needs a moment to center himself. He hangs his head, nose buried in Minseok’s neck while Minseok breathes through a sigh. He licks at his pulse before starting to move. Minseok takes him so well, every thrust drawing small needy sounds. The sounds simply urge Jongdae to go faster, to draw more, to dig nails in strong thighs and wrap them around his narrow waist so he can angle himself properly and—

“Yes, _yes_ god Jongdae, don’t stop.” Minseok arches through a shudder as arousal fills him to the point that he can barely breathe. He digs his nails into the smooth skin of Jongdae’s back. 

In response, Jongdae moans, voice lilting into a whine, “Hyung, you feel so _good.”_

It’s all too easy for them to get pulled under, consumed by the haze of love, devotion, lust. Their bodies know each other, moving as if magnetized and for the moment, they themselves know nothing but each other. Jongdae knows nothing but the way Minseok’s walls cling to his cock, nothing but the way their coupled scents fill his nose, as deeply as entwined as they are. 

Minseok knows nothing but the taste of Jongdae’s mouth, the stretch of his cock inside him. Nothing but the almost melodic sound of Jongdae’s groans. He knows nothing but the fact that he wants to hear more. With great effort, he detaches his mouth from Jongdae’s.

“Get on your back,” he says against curled lips. He can see the moment Jongdae realizes his intentions; Jongdae swallows thickly, Adam’s apple slowly bobbing. 

“You’re gonna ride me, hyung?” Jongdae’s grin is lazy, a poor attempt at nonchalance but he listens, always, _always_ good for his hyung. 

Minseok raises his brow, a silent _what do you think?_

He watches as Jongdae pulls out, but rather than lie down like Minseok told him to, Jongdae arranges the pillows behind him and leans up against the headboard. 

“It’s easier to kiss you like this,” he explains and Minseok doesn’t hold himself back from slanting his mouth to his, too overcome with fondness to put his feelings into words. 

He swallows Jongdae’s wanton groan as he slowly sinks down on his cock. He doesn’t think he’s going to last; Jongdae’s cock is pressing inside him just right, the slow grind so maddening he sets his teeth into Jongdae’s shoulder. His own cock is so hard, it’s starting to knot. He would take himself in hand but he wants Jongdae to lose himself first. 

Judging by the way Jongdae’s digging his fingers into Minseok’s hips like they’re his last grip on sanity, Minseok knows Jongdae isn’t going to last either. Even though it’s been awhile since they last had sex, he hasn’t forgotten how to take Jongdae apart. He knows that sucking on his tongue will draw a gasp, thumbing over his nipples draws a whine. Doing both at once seems to be enough to shove Jongdae over the edge.

 _“Hyung—”_ Jongdae bucks his hips once, twice, into Minseok before stilling and groaning so low Minseok can feel it vibrate down to the very marrow of his bones. He fills Minseok with his come, digging crescents into his hips. 

Minseok feels it drip down his thighs when he pulls himself off of Jongdae’s softening cock. It’s satisfying in the most primal of ways to be claimed like this. He’s an alpha in the truest sense of the word but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t belong to Jongdae, just as much as Jongdae belongs to him.

With those thoughts swirling around his head, he wraps his hand around his cock, squeezing at the fully formed knot. 

“Lay back,” Jongdae tells him, chest still slightly heaving and eyes dark. He doesn’t wait for Minseok to respond, pushing him onto his back. Minseok watches in awe as Jongdae wraps his lips around the head of his cock. He jerks himself off like that, fisting his length and squeezing his knot as Jongdae laps up the precum and tortures him with a skilled tongue. When he comes, he’s silent, body going taut. 

Jongdae swallows eagerly. He pets down Minseok’s abs, watching and feeling the way they quiver and tense through his orgasm. 

Minseok opens his eyes to the sinful sight of Jongdae between his legs, looking like a beautiful mess, cheeks flushed, hair in disarray, lips red and swollen. He leans down to thumb away some cum lingering at the corner of Jongdae's curled lips. Jongdae stops him from pulling away, licking the thumb clean. Minseok feels arousal simmer in the pit of his stomach as he watches that wicked tongue of his curl around his thumb, but he pushes it away. 

They have plenty of time for more fun later. 

He pulls Jongdae into a soft, comforting kiss, the kind that has warmth thrumming throughout your veins. 

"Let's go clean up, then we'll make breakfast,” Minseok tells him, intertwining their fingers together and pulling his lazy mate off the bed. If it were up to Jongdae, they wouldn’t leave the bed for another few hours.

Jongdae complains and whines a little but is mollified when Minseok coaxes him under the hot spray of the shower. Minseok washes Jongdae’s hair, drawing little satisfied sounds and nearly purring under all the attention. His touch is careful as he washes the rest of him, too.

Beautiful. Jongdae is so beautiful and Minseok is so lucky to be able to have him like this. When he cleans between shapely thighs, Minseok can still see the residual slick making his upper inner thighs glisten. 

“Fucking me turned you on this much?” he teases as he trails the loofa upwards. Arousal flickers in his core but it’s easy to push away for another time. 

Jongdae shudders at the touch. 

“What do you think?” he opens his eyes to roll them. “You’re so damn hot, anything you do turns me on.”

Minseok huffs a laugh. “Even _this_?”

He jabs his fingers into Jongdae’s ribs where he knows—from experience—he’s most ticklish. The effect is immediate; Jongdae screeches, pulling away from the attack but Minseok has him cornered. Minseok is merciless, tickling Jongdae’s sides and holding Jongdae up even when his legs give up on him.

“Hyung—stop it—I can’t breathe—asshole— _Minseok!”_

When he does let up, Jongdae is sucking in lungfuls of air, veritably breathless from laughing so hard without reprieve.

“You’re a dick,” Jongdae huffs out when he can finally talk. His glare would probably be more effective were it not for his angry pout. Minseok quirks his lips into a smirk, more endeared than anything else. He kisses the pout off his lips, effectively stealing his breath once again. Jongdae doesn’t maintain even a semblance of his irritation—he simply melts against Minseok, against his naked, warm, wet body.

♡

"Hyung, how much farther until we get there?" Jongdae doesn't mean to whine but it's kind of hard not to when he's been dragged out of bed at ass o'clock in the morning to go _hiking_. 

The sky is still dark, bearing the smallest sprinkle of light in the east. They're carrying flashlights to safely light the path before them. Their boots crunch in the snow and the air is crisp. On either side of them stand impossibly grand pinetrees, tinging the air with the lingering scent of pine. 

"Not much longer Dae," Minseok reassures his sleepy, grumbly boyfriend. Said sleepy, grumbly boyfriend nearly trips on a stray branch so he takes it upon himself to lace their gloved fingers together. "It'll be worth it. I promise."

"It better be," Jongdae says to himself but squeezes Minseok's hand. He's not really mad, only a little grumpy but also very curious as to what Minseok's big surprise is.

About ten or so minutes later, the trees grow more sparse and they reach a cliffside. The cliff is safely fenced and there's a bench for visitors to rest. Minseok leads Jongdae to the bench and they sit, pressing close for warmth and closeness. 

"The sun should be coming up soon," he informs Jongdae who immediately looks towards the east. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jongdae comments in awe.

It is. The sky is much lighter now, hues of yellows and orange bathing it in a blended watercolour that is much more intense along the horizon. The view is utterly stunning, a frozen lake flanked by snow peaked mountain sides. 

"Here." Minseok places a cup in Jongdae's hands.

Jongdae looks down to see a steaming cup of hot cocoa with tiny (soggy) marshmallows. He makes a small sound of surprise.

"When did you make this?" Jongdae asks, brows knitting in confusion. He blows over his drink to cool it before taking a sip. Instantly, sweetness and chocolatey comfort washes over his tongue and warmth suffuses his chest. 

"Before I woke you up," Minseok responds, filling his own cup with the thermos he kept in the small bag he brought with him.

“I love you.” Jongdae’s eyes curve in appreciation and mirth. “You’re the best.”

“Oh am I now?” Minseok raises a brow. “I seem to remember you calling me a ‘dickhead’ when I tried to wake you up.”

“You’re the _best_ dickhead,” Jongdae says with so much cheek, Minseok can’t help but laugh. He leans in, pressing their foreheads together, “...and I’m very much in love with you.”

From this close, Minseok can practically count every one of Jongdae’s long, dark lashes. He can see the tiny snowflakes caught in them that have yet to melt. He tilts his head, leaning in even further. He closes his eyes and suddenly, all he knows is the press of their lips. Jongdae tastes sweet, like hot cocoa, his lips dry from the cold wind. 

“You want to know something, Dae?” Minseok asks when they part. Jongdae’s cheeks are flushed a delicate pink. Minseok is sure his own are, too. 

“What?”

“I’m very much in love with you too,” he says so earnestly, Jongdae can feel his heart skip a beat. 

All Jongdae can do is slot his mouth against Minseok’s again, hoping that he can drown all the emotions swelling up in his chest in the slide of tongues. Gloved hands cup his face, tilting it so to deepen the kiss and he melts. The wind may nip at their exposed skin and snowflakes might float down from the sky, but he’s never felt so warm. He’s happy to lazily makeout with Minseok like they’re teenagers who’ve discovered it for the first time.

If they happen to miss the sunrise, well, that’s too bad. 

♡

Minseok can’t even be bummed out about missing the sunrise this morning, not when he’s spooning Jongdae and the flames from the fireplace cast a golden glow on his skin that surpasses anything the sun or sky could manage. Jongdae is a little source of heat and warmth, curled into Minseok’s arms. He wanted to spend their last night sleeping by the fireplace in the living room and so they had moved the mattress shortly after lunch. 

They’re supposed to be watching a movie but Minseok is much more interested in watching Jongdae’s expressions, like his small noises of surprise that are accompanied by the upward tilt of his brows or his loud melodic laugh that shakes both himself and Minseok. Head propped up on his palm, he watches them all in fascination and wonders how someone can be so beautiful?

“My face can’t be _that_ interesting, hyung,” Jongdae pipes up around halfway, eyes still on the screen, “you’re missing the movie.”

“I disagree,” Minseok says, pressing a kiss to Jongdae’s clothed shoulder, then the bare expanse of his neck. “You and your face are loads more interesting.”

Goosebumps break out over Jongdae’s skin and he does nothing to mask his happy sigh as Minseok licks along his jaw. He allows himself to melt further into Minseok, pressing back into him. 

“I _suppose_ you and your face are, too,” he says, Minseok slipping his fingers beneath Jongdae’s t-shirt. His attempt at nonchalance is ruined by the tremble in his voice. 

“You suppose _,_ huh?” Minseok lightly scratches over the dark trail of hair leading to the waistband of Jongdae’s underwear. He punctuates his question by sucking a bruise on Jongdae’s neck. 

“I think I need some convincing.” Jongdae’s laugh is breathy, affected. The way he pushes his hips back onto Minseok’s partially hard cock leaves no question about what kind of convincing he needs. He twists around, tangling his fingers in Minseok’s soft hair and nudging at his cheek with his nose. 

When Minseok kisses him, it’s all consuming, licking into his mouth as lazily and as searing as the flames burning beside them. He drags Jongdae’s plush bottom lip between his teeth before laving over it with his tongue. He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of Jongdae’s underwear, running his fingers along the length of Jongdae’s cock. 

Jongdae exhales shakily into Minseok’s mouth, the grip on his hair tightening.

“Touch me,” he orders, begs, implores against spit slickened lips.

Minseok does, curling his fingers around Jongdae’s length and slowly jerking him off. He thumbs beneath the head, spreading precum down the shaft and pulling a moan from Jongdae. 

Jongdae feels a telltale throb between his legs, stemming from deep in his core and fueled by simmering arousal. It’s followed by the wet feeling of his body producing slick. Minseok’s grip around Jongdae’s cock tightens—he can scent it. Yet, he doesn’t acknowledge it further, continuing the lazy twists of his wrists.

Jongdae pulls away to breathe a whine, his fingers in Minseok’s hair growing meaner in retaliation. He can _feel_ Minseok’s cock, hard and thick, through the thin fabric of both their boxers, and it makes him even wetter, makes him _want_ even harder. He relinquishes his grip to tug his underwear down his thighs, kicking them the rest of the way off. An urgency seizes him and it has him turning around to face Minseok.

Minseok’s eyes are dark with hunger. They darken even further when Jongdae grabs Minseok’s hand and tugs it downwards so he can feel the stickiness between his thighs. They both groan brokenly, Minseok’s a little more heady, Jongdae’s a little more desperate. 

“Hyung, please.” Jongdae licks his lips and swallows to wet his dry-as-sand throat. He’s so turned on, even his _skin_ aches and judging by the way Minseok’s scent seems to surround them, by the hard cock pressing into Jongdae’s thigh, he isn’t faring much better. 

Minseok unceremoniously slips two fingers inside Jongdae, intently watching the way Jongdae’s eyelids flutter shut and his bitten lips part around a low moan. He’s so beautiful, so perfect and he tells him so as he hooks his fingers, dragging them out slowly. He whispers it into his skin, mouthing at his pulse and scraping his teeth along day old bruises that colour his skin a deep purple as Jongdae tosses his head back. 

Jongdae’s Adam's apple gives a trembling bob and he hooks his leg on Minseok’s hip to give him more room. He’s rewarded with an agonizing curl of fingers over his prostate. 

“Good,” Minseok praises and Jongdae feels his skin burn. “You’re so good for me.”

Jongdae digs his nails into a firm bicep and utters a whimper. 

“Only for you—only for you, Minseok,” he tells him, breath hitching, forcing his eyes open and gazes at him from beneath dark, thick lashes. 

And Minseok isn’t quite sure what to do with himself when Jongdae is so unbiddenly honest, when his words shake Minseok to his very core. He knows it, he _knows_ that Jongdae is his, that he’s Jongdae’s—undoubtedly, irrevocably. He’s very much aware but sometimes it just _hits_ him that the man he fell in love with years ago, when they were both students, when they were young and dumb and lived every day like it was their last, is still very much the center of his world. 

Twenty-year-old Minseok fell for a kitten grin and vodka flavoured kisses and jeans so tight they took forever to come off later when they had sex in his dorm room (on the tiny twin bed while his roommate was out). Twenty-year-old Minseok fell even further for a soft, lazy grin the next morning, for small hands that clung to him, that played with his hair, for kisses that tasted like toothpaste. Twenty-year-old Minseok looked at Jongdae and saw his future, saw forever. 

Thirty-year-old Minseok looks at Jongdae and _still_ sees his future, _still_ sees forever.

“You’re my world,” he whispers to Jongdae, to his world, and Jongdae can’t even respond because Minseok twists his fingers inside him, so, so cruelly the next second. 

Jongdae gasps, eyebrows slanting in devastating pleasure and he’s so, so, so close he can barely hear himself over the pounding of his heart in his ears. He can barely hear himself choke out _hyung_ as he comes between them, seeing stars beneath his eyelids. As he comes down, he stops Minseok from pulling his fingers out, wanting something to squeeze around as he works through the aftershocks.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Minseok says in utter awe and Jongdae doubts it because he feels like a mess, cum splattered on his abs and chest and his slick leaking onto the bedsheets. He wants to say something, snark at him for being so cheesy but then Minseok’s pulling his fingers out and swallowing the tiny surprised sound that escapes Jongdae with a wet kiss and Jongdae forgets he was going to say anything at all. 

“Can you go again?” Minseok asks, soothing a hand down Jongdae’s side, his tiny waist, to cup his ass and drag him forward. 

Jongdae needs a second to come back into his skin, into his mind. When he does, he’s hyper aware of the hard, thick length of Minseok’s cock pressed against his rim through fabric that is rapidly being darkened by the copious amount of lube he’s produced.

A groan escapes him, his rim fluttering around nothing and then, “ _Yes_ , yes. Need you now, hyung.” 

They scramble, ridding each other of any remaining clothes so that when they come together again, it’s just naked skin against naked skin. It’s Minseok and it’s Jongdae, and it’s them, raw and honest. It’s Minseok kissing along Jongdae’s inner calf, and then the other, slow, slow, achingly slow, before pushing inside of him, just as slow, slow, _so fucking slow._ It’s the breath being pushed out of Jongdae’s lungs as he’s filled, stretched so deliciously, his very blood feels like it's on fire. 

It’s _them,_ purely them, and Jongdae has never wanted anything else more than this. His toes curl by Minseok’s head at how right this feels. He’s bent in half, legs thrown over Minseok’s shoulders with Minseok thrusting into him like they’ve got all night. And they do, they don’t need to leave until lunchtime tomorrow—but all thoughts of leaving are literally shoved from Jongdae’s mind, as it's filled with _Minseok, Minseok, Minseok._

Minseok’s hair sticks to his forehead with sweat, cheeks pink with exertion, lips red from abuse. He looks so beautiful, so beautiful Jongdae’s heart aches and he wants to keep watching him, watching his features twist in pleasure but then Minseok leans back, allowing his legs to fall from his shoulders. He fucks into Jongdae’s wet heat a couple of times, bottom lip drawn between his teeth before sitting back onto his thighs. 

In this position, Jongdae has no purchase to grind back, his hips pulled onto Minseok’s thighs. He’s helpless, only his upper back on the bed, and all he can do is give in to the torturing, slow, slow, agonizing, drag of Minseok’s cock inside of him. Minseok can’t go quickly but he can go hard, can go deep and that’s more than enough. 

Jongdae can feel bits of his sanity leaving him with every rub of Minseok’s cock over his prostate, with every bite of his nails in his hips. It’s too much, yet not enough all at once. 

“Minseok,” he says Minseok’s name like a prayer, like it’s something sacred. 

“What is it, love?” Minseok rasps out, voice low, grounding but also cruel, clueless, as if he isn’t the reason for Jongdae’s current state. 

_“Hyung,”_ he keens, unable to form a coherent thought. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Minseok is wiping away a tear.

“Jongdae, baby, you can do it again,” Minseok comforts, taking in the wanton stretch of Jongdae’s body, the way his bottom lip trembles and tears stain his cheeks. 

He’s certain that he’d follow this man straight into hell if he had to. 

Jongdae makes a broken sound of assent and Minseok takes it as his cue to keep going. Minseok’s thighs burn and Jongdae is incredibly tight and wet and hot. He feels his knot start to form and judging from the way Jongdae’s back arches and he clenches around him, Jongdae feels it too. He places one hand beneath Jongdae’s lower back so he can properly angle himself and that’s all it takes really—Jongdae goes rigid, one hand curled in his hair and the other in the sheets, and comes a second time. 

Minseok feels his knot throb at the sight, feels Jongdae clenching around him and his self control slips through his fingers like sand. He wraps Jongdae’s thighs around his waist and thrusts hard and deep into him. Jongdae clutches onto him, scratching down his back and arching his neck like an offering. Something inside Minseok just _snaps_ , and he’s sinking his teeth into flesh and spilling into Jongdae, moan muffled by Jongdae’s shoulder. 

Blood rushes in Jongdae’s ears as white hot pain lances through his shoulder. He thinks he hears himself sob, out of pleasure and out of pain. He can barely tell one from the other, too many sensations happening all at once. Eventually, it ebbs and he slumps into the mattress with a shuddering breath. He flinches at the feeling of a hot tongue laving over his bite mark. It stings but it also soothes—a mate’s saliva can speed up the healing process.

“You bit me,” he says with a breathless, incredulous laugh.

Outside of his rut, Minseok has never felt the uncontrollable urge to mark Jongdae so thoroughly but it simply felt...necessary. It felt right. 

“You’re mine,” is his explanation, kissing beneath Jongdae’s jaw. 

The twin bite marks sit side by side, one scarred over and faded and the other fresh and raw. He admires them with awe in his gaze. 

“Mmm,” Jongdae hums in agreement, pulling Minseok up for a deep, toe curling kiss to communicate one thing: 

_You’re mine too._

It’ll be another half hour before Minseok’s knot goes down enough for them to separate, not that they really mind. They’re both a sticky, sweaty mess on equally as sticky sheets but it’s easy to ignore for the sake of being close, close, as close as they can possibly be. For a while, they’re silent, basking in the glow of the dimming fire, listening to the crackle of burning wood, to deep breaths.

“I'll ask for less hours, when we get back," Minseok murmurs, petting down Jongdae's side, "and if they don't agree, I'll quit."

Dark eyes widen and a crease forms between Jongdae's brows, "You don't have to."

"I want to," Minseok insists, soothing the crease away with his thumb. "I'm tired and I want to spend more time home with you—and Tannie, of course. I'll find something else." 

Jongdae bites his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. He pulls Minseok close, hugging him so tightly his shoulder smarts. 

"I love you," Jongdae says, breathless and hopelessly fond, into the crook of Minseok's neck. The scent of sex, of spice, of sugar, of _them_ surrounds them and he feels at peace. 

Minseok presses a kiss into his hair, holding him just as tightly, holding his world in his arms. 

"I love you, too."

Tomorrow, they'll have to pack up and go home and Minseok may or may not end up jobless. But it doesn't matter because his job is worth a lot less to him than Jongdae's happiness, than his own happiness

But tomorrow is tomorrow. 

Tonight…

Tonight is theirs and theirs alone. 


End file.
